


Pineapples & Promises

by CubbieGirl1723



Category: Psych, Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Gift Fic, gratuitous use of psych catchphrases, making fun of a certain character we don't like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-25 13:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723
Summary: “A psychic, Logan? I mean, that takes sketchy P.I.s to a whole new level. And look.” Veronica gestures widely, encompassing the green letters proclaiming ‘Psych’ across the storefront office. “What kind of name is that? It’s like, ‘Psych, I can’t believe you thought psychics are real.’”Veronica and Logan take a trip to Santa Barbara and cross paths with Shawn and Gus. A birthday gift fic for MarshmellowBobcat.





	Pineapples & Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marshmellow Bobcat (MellowBobcat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/gifts).

> Happy Birthday, MarshmellowBobcat! I know the traditional fandom gift is porn but...you're getting a wacky crossover fic instead :) I'm so glad you were born. Hope your birthday is as amazing as you are!

“Thanks again for getting away with me this weekend.” Logan presses a kiss to Veronica’s forehead. The crowd on the Santa Barbara boardwalk jostles them and she stumbles slightly, catching herself on his forearms with a laugh.

“At first I wasn’t all about it. I mean, it doesn’t look that different from the beaches in Neptune.” She waves her hand around, encompassing the crush of people, the sunshine, and scenic palm trees. “But the idea has grown on me.”

Logan nods. “If we were at home, you’d be too busy. I have to get you out of Neptune in order to take a break and actually relax.” 

She gifts him with a sunny smile and that makes his months of cajoling worth it. Seagulls squawk overhead and the sun warms the back of his neck. 

“Look, they have pineapple whip.” Veronica points out the ice cream stand. “I’m hungry.”

“We just had lunch!”

“Dessert!”

“Okay, fine. It’s vacation and all.” He’s never been able to deny her much of anything. _ Why start trying now? _

After waiting in line, Veronica impatiently grabs the ice cream cone from the vendor and licks it with gusto. Logan tries not to watch too closely or think about her tongue. 

_ Don’t embarrass yourself. _

Surreptitiously adjusting his pants, he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. 

And comes up empty. 

Panic floods him. _ Shit shit shit. _

“Uh, Veronica, we have a problem.”

She looks up from her ice cream cone. 

“I can’t find my wallet.”

Rooting around in her black studded messenger bag, she fishes out a crumpled five dollar bill and slaps it into the ice cream vendor’s waiting palm. 

“Okay, no big deal. Are you sure you didn’t leave it in the hotel?”

_ It’s a really, really big deal. Bigger than she knows _. 

But Logan takes a deep breath. She could be right, he could have left it at the hotel. It’s unlikely, but it makes sense to check before he lets himself freak out. 

“I suppose I could have. Mind walking back with me to check?”

Veronica links her arm through his. “Sounds good.”

* * *

Logan searches everywhere his wallet could be in their suite at the Four Seasons—and plenty of places it couldn’t be—and comes up empty-handed. 

_ This is bad. _

He paces the length of the ornate carpet, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to figure out what to do next. 

Veronica sits on their plush king-size bed, sneakers dangling. 

“Okay, babe, I don’t think it’s here. You’re positive you didn’t leave it in Neptune?”

“I’m sure.” _ Considering what was hidden inside it. _ He had checked and double checked...and triple checked before they left. 

“Want me to have my dad go see if it’s in our apartment?”

“No, I know I had it when we checked in at the front desk,” he snaps his fingers, “because they ran my credit card.”

“Okay.” She shrugs, features placid. “We’ll cancel your cards, call the bank and report it, be on our way.”

“No! It’s not okay!” 

_ If only it was just my wallet _. But he can’t tell Veronica what’s really missing.

She leans back at his exclamation, eyes wide. 

Logan paces and tries to figure out how to explain himself. 

“I mean, it’s the principle of the thing, Veronica. This is our vacation and the tourism industry is huge in Santa Barbara. I think the only responsible thing to do is report it to the police.”

“Well—”

“Crime shouldn’t pay. The thief deserves to be caught!”

Veronica stares at him like he’s lost his mind...and maybe he has. But he desperately needs to get his wallet back. 

“You really think it was a pickpocket?” She’s skeptical. 

“In that crowd on the boardwalk? It’s probably a prime venue.”

Shrugging again, she pulls the strap of her purse up on her shoulder and stands. 

“Okay, then. Let’s go visit the Santa Barbara Police Department.”

* * *

Veronica can’t figure out what’s gotten into Logan. He still looks the same but...aliens? Body snatchers? There’s no logical explanation for his behavior. 

After they arrived at the police station, the sweet but bumbling desk officer, who’s name tag read, “Buzz,” diligently took down Logan’s information. He seemed eager, but didn’t inspire a lot of hope. 

Veronica tried to pretend that their report was in competent hands so they could get the hell out but Logan, apparently, didn’t buy her acting skills. She had never really seen him use his Naval Officer persona, but he had demanded to speak with the police chief and now, in her office with her two top detectives, he was actually name-dropping. 

_ He hasn’t used his last name to get what he’s wanted since high school. What the hell is going on? _

“Look, Mr. Echolls,” Police Chief Karen Vick says, hands outstretched, “I’m so very sorry this happened to you. I promise we will do everything in our power to help.”

The Santa Barbara police chief, with her practical short hair and low-heeled pumps, actually seemed to care about Logan’s missing wallet even though her eyes hadn’t registered his last name. She hadn’t tried to bribe them once and had been kind to her subordinates. _ Will wonders never cease? Is it something in the water here? _

“O’Hara and I can go check it out if you want,” the head detective, Carlton Lassiter, offers eagerly. He’s tall with distinguished salt and pepper hair at his temples. Veronica’s surprised he’s not FBI. He seems to personify everything she remembers about the Bureau—no non-sense, practical, plays by the rules, and on fire to catch the bad guys. While she’s not great at embracing the rules part, she thinks of the Lamb brothers and figures there are worse characteristics the people in charge could embody. 

His partner, Juliet O’Hara, is not quite as easy to decipher. She’s brisk and professional, reminding Veronica how hard it can be to get anyone to take a woman seriously in law enforcement. But she has a friendly smile and doesn’t come across as jaded. 

_ How long has it been since you were that innocent, Veronica? 2003? Police stations may look the same no matter where you go but things here are certainly different from Neptune. _

Although turns out it’s a universal truth that women can’t resist Logan when he turns on the charm. He’s certainly trying to get his way now. He’s been sending flirty smiles to Police Chief Vick and Detective O’Hara for the last thirty minutes. 

O’Hara flushes at his attention but Vick merely quirks a brow at the crowd in her office. “I don’t know, Detective Lassiter—”

“We don’t have any open cases.” Detective O’Hara cuts off the police chief. “We’d be happy to start asking around.”

_ They’re bored _ , Veronica realizes as she shifts her weight from one foot to another. _ Must not be a lot of crime in Santa Barbara if the lead detectives can take our measly missing wallet case. _

And she’s bored, too. She fought the idea at first, but once she promised Logan that she would actually get away and relax for a few days, she started looking forward to it. Laying out on the beach, trying new restaurants, and having marathon hotel sex had sounded pretty good but they’ve spent the last—she checks the time—three hours stuck in the police station. 

Clearing her throat, she grabs Logan’s bicep. “It sounds like they’re doing everything they can, babe. Let’s go.”

It’s Logan’s turn to stare at her like she’s lost it. And yeah, usually she’d be all over tracking down a petty criminal. But it’s not like she’s getting paid. _ And how hard can it be to replace a black AmEx? _

“I just need—I mean, I’d like it found as soon as possible.” Logan glances at Veronica, looks her up and down, and she can see an idea dawning. “What about a private detective? Is there anyone you’d recommend?”

_ Like I’d trust any of the hacks who live here. It’s so wholesome, they wouldn’t know the first thing about solving a crime. _

She’d do it for him, of course, but she doesn’t really have any resources outside of Neptune. And working on vacation? She had finally embraced the idea of relaxation. She bought sexy underwear, dammit. 

“Oh, no, I don’t think—” 

“Well, there is this one agency—”

Veronica and Detective O’Hara speak at the same time before Detective Lassiter interrupts. 

“Don’t even think about recommending them, O’Hara.”

Logan looks at him curiously before turning to the pretty blonde detective. 

“Who would you recommend?”

O’Hara blushes again under Logan’s intense stare and stammers. 

“Well, it’s a little unconventional but...we have a psychic that consults for the SBPD on occasion. I could give you his number?”

Laughter bubbles out of Veronica’s mouth. She can’t help it. 

“A psychic detective? Like on TV? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

But Chief Vick merely shrugs. “Mr. Spencer has been known to solve a case...from time to time.”

Veronica gapes at her and Detective Lassiter crosses his arms and huffs. 

_ Everyone who lives here must be looney-tunes _. 

“Here.” Detective O’Hara hands Logan a business card. He scans it and turns to Veronica. 

“So. Wanna go meet a psychic?”

——-

“A psychic, Logan? I mean, that takes sketchy PIs to a whole new level. And look.” She gestures widely, encompassing the green letters proclaiming ‘Psych’ across the storefront office, just a few blocks from where they were earlier. “What kind of name is that? It’s like, ‘Psych, I can’t believe you thought psychics are real.’”

“It can’t hurt to check it out,” he soothes. “Look on the bright side: Maybe you’ll pick up some pointers.”

Logan is at least smart enough to duck out of range as she tries to swat him for that comment. Taking a deep breath, Veronica follows him as he pushes open the door to the small office. 

The bell jingles on the glass door and two men look up from the middle of the room where they are fighting over a green frisbee. 

“Gus! I still say tossing out Psych frisbees on the beach is a great marketing campaign.” The brunette stomps his foot and tugs on the disc. He’s probably about her age, Veronica guesses, moderately attractive and may actually spend more time styling his hair than Logan, which is saying something. His casual outfit of jeans and a polo does not inspire confidence. She wants to roll her eyes on principle. 

“You must be outta your damn mind! It’s a waste of money, Shawn,” the black man argues back, not letting go of the frisbee. He must be Gus. His black hair is short, shaved close to his head. The high-end sneakers that he’s paired with khaki pants make her think that he’s the practical one in this odd relationship. 

Because of course she googled them on the way over. “Psych” had actually been mentioned in the Santa Barbara newspaper a few times and was credited with helping both the police and private individuals solve cases. Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster, according to the quick search she did on her phone, were childhood friends who had gone into business together a few years ago. She still doesn’t trust them any further than she could throw them but at least they are licensed. 

Logan clears his throat and they both turn. Shawn takes advantage of Gus’s momentary distraction to yank the frisbee out of his grasp and hides it behind his back. 

“Hello, I’m Shawn Spencer, and this is my partner, the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man.”

Gus—in her opinion, he looks nothing like the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man—smirks and gives them a tiny salute at this odd introduction while Shawn continues. “Are you in need of our psychic services?”

Logan’s eyebrows hit his hairline and Veronica backs towards the door. 

“Nope. No, we’re good.” She grabs his arm and tugs, hissing, “I’ve got this.”

Logan turns to face her. “You said it yourself on the way over, you don’t have any contacts or resources here.”

“Yeah, but—”

Frustrated, Veronica gestures around at the messy office space, littered with Legos, Star Wars action figures, dirty laundry, and open bags of chips. 

“This can’t be our best option. Look, let’s go back to the hotel, call Mac, I’m sure she can—”

“She’s on vacation, too, Veronica,” Logan reminds her. 

_ Damn it. _

Shawn and Gus have crept closer to them as they’ve had their whispered conversation, clearly eavesdropping. Veronica doesn’t care. 

“Well...my dad….” she falters, “I mean, maybe he could…”

At Logan’s skeptical look, she trails off. “Why’s it such a big deal, anyway? It’s just your license and credit cards.”

He pales. “I just, I want it back. That’s all.”

_ What’s going on with him? Maybe Logan needs a vacation more than I realized. _

Sighing, she decides to let him have this. 

“Okay, fine.” She waves her arms magnanimously and turns to face the curious men. “Tell the psychic detectives what you need, Logan.”

“Please, step into our office.” Gus gestures graciously and clears a spot for them to sit on the couch while he and Shawn roll over office chairs. 

“Um,” Logan begins. “My wallet was stolen on the boardwalk a little bit ago.”

“Did you fill out a police report?” Gus quierries. 

“Yeah, we just came from there. They actually recommended you?”

Veronica studies Shawn, who’s studying Logan, as Logan continues to explain what happened. 

Suddenly, Shawn jumps out of his chair and puts his finger to his temple. 

“I’ve figured it out! Uh, I mean the spirits have revealed it. You’re Logan Echolls, aren’t you?”

Gus snaps his fingers. “I knew you looked familiar!” A slow smile spreads across his face. “Your mom, man. I used to watch Days of Our Lives every chance I could get. She was—”

“Gus, don’t be a Rodent of Unusual Size,” Shawn cuts him off and Gus shakes his head. 

“I was going to say she was a lovely lady who is deeply missed.”

“Uh, thank you?” Logan’s eyes are wide as his gaze swivels between the two men.

“So what’s so important about your wallet?” Shawn asks, crossing and uncrossing his legs. _ And I thought Logan was fidgety. Shawn makes him look practically placid _. “I mean, aside from the money inside it?” 

“Uhhh…” He glances at her and sweat breaks out on his forehead. “Veronica...I need...could you get me…” His head whips around, taking in the office. “A slushy from the vendor outside?”

“A slushy?” She echoes at the same time Shawn turns smug eyes on her.

“Wait, is this the same Veronica who cleared you of murder a few years back? Veronica Mars, the PI?” He must take her silence for assent and continues. “I read the piece on you in Vanity Fair and I have to say, I was impressed! But then...why are you here? Are you stumped on this one?”

She opens her mouth to lay into him but Logan interveins. 

“A slushy, please, Veronica? Pina colada flavored?”

_ What the hell? _

She knows Logan’s new job is stressful but wow, it must be getting to him more than she realized. 

_ Is he having complete breakdown? Should I be worried? _

He grabs her hand and squeezes. “Please?” he requests again. 

He seems so sincere…. It’s so out of character that she can’t figure out what else to do. 

Standing, she shoulders her messenger bag. “Okay, I’ll be right back with a pina colada slushy.”

“And for my new friends, too.” Logan waves at the other two men and she glares. 

“Oh, I could use a snack. Orange for me, please.” Gus smiles politely. 

“Make mine cherry!” Shawn calls as she exits. 

* * *

Logan slumps into the chair after the door closes behind Veronica.

“Oh, god.” He buries his face in his hands. “I’ve gotta get it back. I was planning on proposing this weekend and Veronica’s engagement ring was hidden in my wallet.”

“Your wallet?” Gus questions. “Why not a ring box like a normal person?”

“My girlfriend is a nosy PI, that’s why. She’d find that in a hot minute. You have to help me but she can’t know about the ring.”

“What does it look like?” Shawn nudges Gus, who hops up and grabs a legal pad from a desk, taking notes.

“Rose-gold, solitaire. Two carats.” He sighs, mourning his loss. “Simple, but perfect.” 

The bell over the door tinkles as Veronica comes back in, juggling four clear plastic cups. 

“Here you go.” She hands them out and sips on a blue one, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Are we good, Logan? Because I’d really like to—”

“Say no more, we’ll take the case.”

Shawn stands and slurps his slushy. 

“Yes, throw an autographed picture of Lynn Echolls in and we’re all set,” Gus adds. “We’ll be in touch.” He shakes Logan’s hand. 

“Not so fast.” Veronica points her slushy straw at Shawn. 

Logan can practically see her internal debate between enjoying their vacation and working this case. 

_ Please pick relaxing while the people I hire do it for us. _

Her natural suspicion wins out. _ Of course it does. _

“We expect frequent updates. And let me know if you get any leads. We’re coming with you.”

“Veronica, we’re on vacation,” Logan protests. “I know you wanted to relax. Can’t you let the professionals handle this?”

“I am one of the professionals,” she growls at him. “I’m not—”

“It’s no problem,” Shawn cuts her off smoothly. “I will consult the spirits and have this case solved for you in no time. A day. Or two, tops.”

“Now, Shawn, you probably shouldn’t, uh, promise things like that.” Gus hurries to temper his partner. “But we will do everything we can to solve this quickly. You’re our top priority.”

“Your only case, you mean,” Veronica calls as Logan drags her out of the storefront office.

“Now that we have someone working on that, wanna go relax and you can show me the new underwear you bought?” He bobs his eyebrows at her.

“Hey, that was supposed to be a surprise!” She swats at his arm.

“Well, I haven’t seen you in it yet. That’ll be a nice surprise.” He pulls her in for a quick kiss, then deepens it. 

_ As far as distractions go, it’s a pretty enjoyable one. _

Logan slides his hands to her hips, tugging her closer, and that apparently seals the deal. She smirks and kisses him back.

“Let’s go back to our hotel, investigate that very big bed.”

_______

The next morning, Logan’s phone dings, waking him up. He hurries to snatch it off the nightstand before it bothers Veronica, sleeping next to him.

_ You’ll have to delete your texts in case she checks them. _

**Visiting local pawn shop in search of missing item. Think we have a lead.**

**What did you find?** Logan texts back but doesn’t get a response.

Shifting around in the bed must have woken up Veronica, because she stretches and snags her laptop off her nightstand. 

“Mmmm, morning. I’m just gonna check those credit alerts I placed on your cards,” she explains as she pulls the sheet up, covering her breasts, and opens her computer. “While you get me some coffee?”

He hides his phone from her prying eyes and tries to worm his way under the sheet, gratified by her squirming.

“Ooooh, that’s—hey, I think I found something!” She straightens, focuses on the computer, and he knows that if she’s on the hunt, his endeavors under the covers will go unappreciated. 

Sighing, he resurfaces. “What did you find?”

“Someone used your credit card—not the one in your name but the Logan Lester one—at a restaurant. It looks like…” She types furiously for a moment before meeting his eyes, “It’s on the boardwalk close to where we were earlier when it was stolen.”

“I totally forgot that card was in there. I’m pretty sure it’s a no limit Black Amex. I definitely didn’t mention it to Shawn and Gus.”

Veronica turns smug. “If there were really good at their jobs, you wouldn’t need to.”

That doesn’t make any sense. He knows Veronica has had clients not tell her everything before. 

“That’s not true. They just texted me, they already have a lead.”

He could smack himself. _ What are you doing, idiot? _

Her eyes gleam. “Oh, they do, do they? Well, let’s make a visit to this restaurant and see if we can learn anything ourselves.” She closes her laptop decisively and throws back the covers, hopping out of bed.

“Veronica,” he whines. “This is vacation. They have it covered. Come back to bed.”

“I was just in bed. I’m hungry and I want to go to the beach.” She finds her underwear and bra and begins getting dressed. _ Clothes are supposed to stay off. _ “Get up, let’s go.”

Throwing his arm over his eyes, Logan feigns sleep. She doesn’t fall for it and pokes him in the ribs.

“Ouch! Alright, Bobcat, retract claws. I’m up.”

Slipping into clean boxers and jeans, he’s careful to pocket his cell phone, out of Veronica’s sight. _ At least this way she’s not following Shawn and Gus around _, he thinks philosophically to himself as his vision of lazy days at the beach and lounging in bed disappear.

* * *

“Hi.” Veronica approaches the server at the Oceanside Diner where Logan’s credit card was last used. She smiles at the girl behind the register, whose nametag reads ‘Kate.’ “Do you happen to remember a guy named Logan Lester? He ate here and paid…” she glances at her watch, “about an hour ago?”

Kate looks sympathetic. “Oh, I’m sorry, my shift just started. I can’t help you.”

Turning to Logan, she lets her lip tremble and her eyes fill with tears. “Our vacation is ruined!”

His eyes widen in alarm before he catches on to her ruse. 

“I know, Sugarpuss.” He rubs her back soothingly and glances at Kate. “I know we saved for years to come here and finally got time off from our crappy jobs but—”

“I can pull up the register log, though,” Kate interjects hurriedly, “And see if I can get any information for you.”

“Oh, thank you.” Veronica sniffles and makes a show of drying her tears. 

“It looks like Mr. Lester ordered a breakfast burrito and sat in Brad’s section.” The hostess points at harried server running between the kitchen and a table by the window. “He’s a little busy now but...what if I sat you in his next available and then you could ask him about it when he gets a sec?” 

“That sounds great.” Logan smiles warmly at Kate and Veronica smirks at him as they’re escorted over to a table overlooking the windows. Tears can be quite effective.

When their waiter finally makes it to their table, she changes her tactic. Folding her hands over the plastic menu, she gives the young man a level stare. The customer behind him is trying to get a coffee refill but, damnit, she has a case to solve. 

“I don’t want to waste your time. I have some questions for you about a customer who was in here earlier. If you can answer them, we won’t bother you for refills and he’ll leave a very generous tip.” She jerks her thumb at Logan on the bench next to her. 

Glancing around, the waiter, whose nametag reads ‘Brad,’ raises his eyebrows speculatively and slides into the booth across from them. “Shoot.”

“About an hour and a half ago, a guy sat in your section, ordered a breakfast burrito, and paid by credit card. The name on the card was Logan Lester. Does this ring a bell?”

Brad nods. “Yeah, I remember him. Ate alone, not too chatty.”

The thrill of a clue sizzles through her veins. Even after all this time, tracking down leads still excites her. “What did he look like? Or what was he wearing?” 

“Um, brown hair, brown eyes. Kinda nondescript.” 

Veronica’s excitement cools. _ Of course he was _.

“But I don’t think he lives here. Had a touristy vibe.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He was wearing board shorts and a cheap Santa Barbara souvenir t-shirts.”

“Interesting.” That doesn’t make any sense. A traveling pickpocket? 

“I think he was headed to the beach,” Brad offers. “He had a blue backpack sitting on the chair across from him. I could see a wetsuit inside.”

She locks eyes with Logan. “Tourist, out early, wetsuit. Think he might be a surfer?”

“Could be.” Logan holds his hand out to Brad. “Thanks, man. We’ll have two breakfast burritos, too, and we’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“No problem.” Brad stands and shrugs. “Thanks for the break. I’ll be back with that soon.”

Logan turns to her. “What’s the next step, Veronica?”

“You wanted to surf here anyway.” She nods her head in the direction of the window, sunlight streaming through it. “Looks like a great time to visit the beach.”

He opens his mouth to protest but she pats her large bag. “Don’t worry, I grabbed everything we might need.”

“Of course you did.” Logan rolls his eyes. 

“Hey, this is all for you, mister.”

“You know, you could let the people that I’m paying handle it.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

* * *

“So what’s your plan here, Veronica? Just look for a surfer with a blue backpack?” Logan raises a skeptical brow. “He could be on any stretch of beach, you know.”

“I might ask around at some surf rental places. If our pickpocket is from out of town, he probably doesn’t have his own gear. You just go surf and let me worry about it.” She shoos him towards a board rental hut and he shrugs. _ Why not enjoy it? _

Logan lets the familiar ritual sooth him. He’s been surfing for so long, it’s mostly muscle memory. The warm sun feels good on his back, the spray of the water is refreshing, and he lets his thoughts wander. 

His nerves have been strung taut ever since he decided to ask Veronica to marry him. It’s been four years, though, since she’s been back in Neptune, back in his life. They’ve survived two deployments, they navigate a shared apartment, and they have a dog together. Clearly, their lives are already intertwined. She used to tell him that she was never getting married...but he hasn’t heard that protest lately. In fact, he’s even heard her casually mention having kids. 

So he screwed up his courage and bought a ring in San Diego—couldn’t chance having it get back to her if he shopped in Neptune. He had wanted to buy her the biggest goddamn rock he could find, broadcast that she was taken, but she’d probably say no on principle alone if he’d done that.

Instead he found a delicate solitaire on a rose-gold band. It will suit her. _ Or it would have, if it hadn’t been stolen along with my wallet, _ he thinks bitterly. Obviously the ring can be replaced, but he had planned on proposing during this trip and the loss of it had taken the wind out of his sails.

But maybe the detectives he hired will find it and he can still salvage a proposal out of this trip yet. 

On that positive note, he rides his last wave to shore and decides to call it a day. Returning his rented gear to The Surf Shack, he retrieves his belongings from a locker, changes quickly, and checks his phone. No new messages. He sends a text to Shawn, requesting an update, and then proceeds to locate Veronica. 

She’s down the beach a ways, leaning against the counter of another surf shack, giving a flirty smile to the college kid behind the cash register. Jealousy flares in his chest. He knows it’s just business as usual for her but he can’t help it. That smile should belong to him alone. 

“Honey.” Laying a possessive hand on her elbow, Logan glares at the boy trying to flirt with his girlfriend. 

“Hey, there.” She hip-checks him and tosses her hair. “I was just explaining to Steve, here,” she gestures at the floppy-haired surfer, who gulps, “that we're trying to meet up with your buddy. Can you help us out, Steve?” 

Logan rolls his eyes at the puppy-dog expression that she gives Steve. She’s spreading it on a little thick. _ Poor kid doesn’t know what hit him. Clearly nothing to be jealous about here. _

Stuttering, Steve replies, “Logan Lester? Blue backpack? You just missed him.” He points up the beach. “He went that way.”

Sure enough, Logan can see a blue backpack disappearing through the crowd up ahead. He grabs Veronica’s hand. 

“Let’s go, dear. Thanks, dude.”

Turning, he pulls her along with him as he keeps his eyes glued to their mark, closing the gap quickly. 

“Gotcha!” Veronica snags the top loop on his backpack and pulls, sending their target backwards so he lands at their feet. “Now give my boyfriend his wallet back.”

Wide eyes and a gaping mouth stare back at them as their pickpocket sputters on the ground. “What the hell, lady?”

“Who are you? Where’s his wallet?”

Logan stands impassively behind Veronica, arms crossed. He hasn’t gotten to be her muscle in a while and he’s forgotten how fun it is. 

“Answer her questions,” he growls when their culprit makes eye contact with him. 

Flipping his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes, the pickpocket squirms. “What’s your deal?”

“I’m gonna ask the questions, thanks. What’s your real name? Where’s his wallet?”

Veronica removes Mr. Sparky from her messenger bag and flashes a jolt of electricity. Their victim slumps down, the fight going out of him. 

“Okay, fine.” He sighs. “A guy hired me to do a job. Ex-cop. He knew about my special skill set and—”

“An ex-cop hired you to be part of a pickpocket ring in Santa Barbara?” Veronica’s forehead wrinkles in confusion while Logan pulls out his cell phone and places a call to the SBPD.

“No, he hired me for this mark in particular.” He gestures at Logan. “He nabbed me a while back in San Diego and then got kicked off the force. Then he called me down here to nick this guy’s wallet.” 

His eyes shift guiltily to the left and Veronica pounces on it. “This guy in particular? And what’s the cop’s name?”

“Nope, I’m not talking to you anymore, lady.”

“Lady? I should tase you just for that.” She demonstrates with another crackle of electricity from Mr. Sparky. The thief flinches but shakes his head, lips pressed firmly together.

**Pickpocket apprehended,** Logan texts to Shawn. **Any news on my missing item?**

**Jules told me** , Shawn replies. **Meet us at the station**.

* * *

“Just give me five minutes with him,” Detective Lassiter growls, headed into the interrogation room at the Santa Barbara Police office. “I’ll find out about this alleged partner.”

Veronica turns back to their psychic detectives. Gus snacks on a bag of pretzels from the vending machines and Shawn...is flirting with Detective O’Hara.

_ Interesting. _

The blond officer tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, blushing at something Shawn said. 

_ Are they dating? Is there something going on there? Maybe it’s an opposites-attract sort of thing. _

While the detective looks away, Shawn glances down at the reports on her desk, his eyes scanning quickly. Juliet appears impressed when he wows her with a “psychic” detail that he divined...but Veronica’s not. 

_ He’s not psychic. He’s just observant. _

She opens her mouth to expose him as a fraud but before she can, Gus hands something to Logan that he slips into his pocket. 

_ What was that? _

“I hear that,” Gus says with finality and tosses a pretzel in his mouth. 

Veronica raises her eyebrows but both men are silent. Logan bounces on the balls of his feet, a huge smile stretching across his features. _ What’s gotten into him? _

“What are you—”

“Got him!” Detective Lassiter emerges from the interrogation rooms, brandishing a manilla folder triumphantly. “His partner’s an ex-detective from San Diego. Name of Leo D’Amato.”

Logan’s wide eyes swing to hers. “Deputy Leo? Didn’t he help you with—”

“Yeah, with the Grace Manning case,” she cuts him off. “I haven’t talked to him in years, though. He got...weird.”

She doesn’t want to admit it to Logan, but Leo got a little pushy. She could handle being hit on but it made their professional relationship awkward. When he didn’t take the hint, she had to cut ties and get a new contact in the San Diego Police Department. She had honestly forgotten about Leo. 

“Weird, how?” Logan’s gaze narrows. “What do you mean?” 

Veronica is saved from answering by a ding from her phone. She digs it from her purse and scans the information quickly.

“Uh, Logan, I got an alert on one of your other credit cards. There’s been some...activity.”

He comes to peer over her shoulder as she scrolls through her phone.

“Chances Are Gentleman’s Club, LuckyLovers.com, Match Made in Heaven Escort Services,” he reads. “Wow. I’ve been a busy boy.”

“Or Leo is very lonely.”

“Not after the...three hookers he hired.” His eyebrows hit his hair line.

“Good point. Maybe if we track down where these lovely ladies were going, we can find him. Hey, Detectives!” She calls across the room. “Can you find some hookers for me?”

* * *

“I just want to grab a quick shower, Veronica,” Logan explains as he slides the keycard into the hotel door. “Then we can follow back up with the police and our P.I.s.”

_ And lock this ring into the hotel safe, _ he adds to himself.

Shawn and Gus apparently had been successful with the local pawn shops because Gus had returned Veronica’s engagement ring to him at the police station. The relief he felt as he slipped it into his pocket had made him almost lightheaded. Logan could care less about actually catching the thieves now that he had the ring back but he should have known better. Letting go of a case wasn’t in Veronica’s DNA. 

“Fine, just, hurry it up, okay?” she grumbles. She paces the room and he can tell that she’s itching to track down their latest lead. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” He bobs his eyebrows suggestively. _ It’s worth a try. _

“No, that would take too long. I want to catch Leo and find out what the hell is going on.” Her messenger bag swings against her hip as she prowls and bites her fingernails. He knows that look on her face—she’s not going to think of anything else until this is resolved.

_ So much for returning to our romantic vacation. _

“Alright, give me a second.”

Logan closes the bathroom door and leans back against it, sighing. He can’t put the ring in the safe while she’s watching. He just has to trust that she won’t go through his clothes while he’s showering. To be safe, he shoves it into his jeans pocket and folds them carefully on the floor next to the tub. At least he’ll see if she sneaks in. 

After a quick rinse-off, he contemplates walking out into their room naked but decides to keep the ring close. He throws his clothes back on and double checks—yep, still in his pocket. Throwing open the bathroom door, his mouth drops open at the sight that greets him.

_________  


“Surprise.” Veronica’s dry tone jerks him out of his shock. It’s a good thing he’s fully-clothed. 

Their hotel suite contains three hookers, clad in various styles of black lingerie, their two psychic detectives, and the two Santa Barbara Police Detectives assigned to their case. And—he glances around again—the mumbly uniformed officer from the intake desk. Buzz, he remembers from his name plate.

“Veronica? Wanna explain this?” Logan asks.

“Nope. These lovely ladies,” she gestures at the escorts, “were hired by Logan Echolls—and his credit card—to come to this address for a private party.”

“And we tracked them here, as requested,” supplies Detective O’Hara. “Ladies, you’re free to go.” 

The escorts traipse out as Logan protests his innocence.

“Well, I didn’t—”

“Obviously it was Leo,” Veronica interjects, and his heart warms at her words. They’ve grown up since high school, he knows this, but there was a time when trust wouldn’t have been Veronica’s first instinct. She doesn’t even question him, though, and he shoves his hand in his pocket, running his fingers over the ring. God, he wants her. 

Veronica’s still talking. “But why would he send them here? It doesn’t make sense. It’s like—”

“Logan Echolls is the target.”

Shawn squints, eyes closed, his hand up to his temple, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. Veronica harumps, crossing her arms, and continues to glare at him.

“Duh. But why?”

Opening his eyes, Shawn shrugs. “I don’t know. The spirits are silent on this matter.”

“Mr. Echolls, can you think of a reason that D’Amato would have to target you personally in his pickpocket scheme?” Detective Lassiter asks.

Logan is momentarily distracted by Gus stealing Reese's Pieces from the mini-bar but he forces himself to focus. 

“No, I haven’t seen him in years. I mean, I once stopped him from distributing child pornography, but everyone seems to have forgotten about that.”

Veronica sidles over the Gus, nudging his elbow until he gives her a handful of candy. He doesn’t exactly understand what Gus brings to the psychic detective business but someone who will keep Veronica happy by filling her stomach is always a bonus. 

“Well, clearly, D’Amato’s not here.” Detective O’Hara waves her hand around, encompassing their very expensive hotel suite. That he’d really like to be in with just Veronica. “Can you think of any way to find him?”

Shawn holds his hand back up to his temple while Veronica rolls her eyes. Gus gives her another helping of candy and mutters something about Pluto. Apparently placated, she tosses one in the air and catches it in her mouth. Watching her mouth turns him on, though, so he looks away and tries to figure out how he can get everyone to leave, get Veronica’s clothes off, and plan a proposal. 

“Nope.” Shawn lowers his hand. “But we’ll try consulting the spirits about his last known whereabouts and see what we can find.”

“And I’ll call the SDPD, learn why he got fired,” Lassiter offers.

“Great.” Logan walks them all to the door. “I’m going to try to enjoy my vacation.” 

———-

But Veronica won’t be dissuaded from her investigation into his credit card use and the SDPD. He tried distracting her with room service, took off his shirt, gave her a shoulder massage, and still nothing. _ At least I know what I’m getting when I finally get a chance to pop the question _. 

Logan is almost relieved when the phone rings. Veronica snaps out of her investigative trance, answering with a curt, “Mars.”

She nods a few times, practically vibrates with excitement, and hangs up. 

“They’ve got Leo in custody. I guess they found him at Stern’s Wharf. The detectives invited us down to the station if we want to hear what’s going on and press charges.”

Logan sighs. “And we want to?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me at all.”

“Let me just call Shawn and—”

“Why?” Veronica’s face twists in disdain. “He’s a fake psychic and a hack detective. The actual police—and yours truly—did more to solve this case than they did.”

Logan can’t very well explain that Shawn and Gus did exactly what he asked. And he still needs to pay them. 

“Um. Their office is right around the corner. I thought maybe they could give us a ride. Carpool.”

She eyes him oddly. “Your new environmental kick is cramping my style, Echolls.”

“You remember the Xterra, right? And the Range Rover? There was a Jeep in there, too, while you were gone. I’ve got years of gas guzzling to make up for.”

Veronica taps her finger on her chin. “I seem to remember you buying those cars mostly for their backseats.” 

He gestures grandly. “I’ve evolved.”

* * *

“I’m not sure even Logan Echolls has evolved enough for this,” Veronica grumbles from the backseat of Gus’s tiny car, which he affectionately referres to as The Blueberry. 

At least she’s petite. Logan has to practically fold himself in half to fit and he bumps his head on the roof. He swears under his breath and Gus turns around from the passenger seat. 

“It’s a company car. Please keep it clean.”

“Your detective agency has its own company car?” she wonders. 

“Uh, no. I’m a pharmaceutical rep.”

“You still have that job?” Shawn cuts in from the driver’s seat. “Gus! Don’t you have any faith in us? In our dreams?”

“Shawn.” Gus’s voice is dry. “It was never our dream to own a psychic detective agency.” 

“Well, was it your dream to be a pharmaceutical rep?”

Gus harrumphs. He apparently doesn’t haven’t a reply for that and lapses into silence for the rest of the—blessedly short—drive to the police station. They pile out of the minuscule vehicle, Logan mentioning something about a clown car under his breath, as Shawn and Gus start to bicker again. 

“He does not look like Jake from Sixteen Candles,” Gus retorts. 

“He so does,” Shawn shoots back. “Just give him a car to lean against.”

They continue arguing like an old married couple as they head into the police station. Veronica marvels that they’re still in business. 

Shawn stops in the middle of the hallway, puts his hand to his temple and Veronica can barely hold in her exasperation. 

“I predict the culprit is going to walk through those doors.” He points towards the jail cells. “Wait for iiiiiiiiiit.” 

“Duh,” Veronica mutters. “Where else would he come from?”

But everyone ignores her as Lassiter and O’Hara haul in Leo. His hands are cuffed behind his back and he makes a production of struggling against his bonds. 

_ Oh well. Nailing him to the wall will be more fun than exposing the fake psychic anyway _. 

“Deputy Leo. Looks like you have some ‘splaining to do.”

She stares him down, crossing her arms over her chest. Logan moves to stand behind her. It still sends a thrill through her every time he plays her muscle. 

“Hey, Veronica. How’ve you been?” Leo’s mouth curves up in what he probably thinks is a charming smile. Did that work on her in high school? It just feels smarmy now. 

“Um, fine. Wanna explain why you hired a pickpocket to steal my boyfriend’s wallet?”

“Oh, yeah. About that. See, it’s all just a big misunderstanding. I’m under cover. If you just call the SDPD, they’ll—”

“We did.” Detective O’Hara cuts him off. “You were fired months ago. For stalking. And based on the pictures we found on him, we have reason to believe that he’s moved on to you, Ms. Mars.”

O’Hara holds up a glossy 8x10, creased with fold lines. It’s a picture of Logan and Veronica, kissing outside their apartment, but Leo has crossed out Logan’s face and replaced it with his own. 

“Yuck,” Veronica spits out. “You’re deluded if you think you could ever compete with Logan. But that still doesn’t explain why you robbed him.”

Leo sighs. “I hired the pickpocket to steal his wallet so I could try to discredit him in your eyes with the suspicious purchases, the strip clubs and prostitutes. But my partner double-crossed me, kept one of his credit cards, and ruined everything.” 

A crowd has begun to gather around them in the police station. Shawn and Gus share a bag of microwave popcorn that materialized out of nowhere. 

“This is better than _ Explosión Gigantesca de Romance _,” Shawn whispers. “Best soap opera reveal ever.” 

“You know that’s right.” 

They exchange a fist bump. 

If she weren’t so busy interrogating her suspect like the professional PI that she is, she would ask what they hell they are talking about. _ Amateurs. _

Logan sends his P.I.s a weird look, but no one else seem phased by their odd behavior. He turns back to glare at Leo the Creep. “Thanks for those lovely purchases. You’re a real prick, you know that?”

Veronica angles her body in front of him to keep him from punching Leo. They are in a police station, after all; it would be hard to get him off assault charges in front of all these witnesses. She resumes the line of questioning. 

“That was a terrible plan, Leo. I knew Logan’s wallet was stolen and that he, therefore, wasn’t the one to make those purchases. You’re a pathetic idiot.” She glares at him. “Why did you follow us to Santa Barbara, anyway?”

“I saw him buy the ring in San Diego and I knew it was serious. I had to act fast.”

She’s not sure how much time passes as she processes this. Her mouth goes dry and there’s a buzzing in her ears. 

“Ring?”

Logan shifts behind her and clears his throat.

“Veronica.”

She spins. Pinched between his thumb and index finger is a rose-gold band sporting a perfect solitaire diamond. It twinkles in the fluorescent light of the police station, the least romantic place ever. Her eyes fly to meet his and they’ve taken on a velvety sheen, full of love. 

“It was in my wallet. Shawn and Gus got it back for me. This isn’t exactly how I planned to ask this but—”

“Yes.” 

She doesn’t let him finish asking before throwing herself at him. She’s pretty sure there’s applause from the crowd but she’s too busy kissing Logan to care. 

_ As if Leo would ever stand a chance when I have Logan. _

“Look at that, Gus. A happy ending. Good thing we found the ring. Maybe they’ll invite us to the wedding.”

“Maybe I’ll finally get my autographed picture of Lynn Echolls.”

_ Maybe I won’t turn them in for fraud after all. I guess I owe them one. Even if they are the weirdest P.I.s I’ve ever met. _

“Hey, Logan?” Breathless, she breaks off their kiss and runs her fingers along his jawline. “Sorry I had a crazy stalker who ruined your proposal.” 

His eyes dance with happiness. “I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Thanks for saying yes.”

_ As if I’d ever say anything else _ .   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Jmazzy for all her suggestions and help plotting this and to Cattyk8 for her beta help and generally awesome knowledge when it comes to writing a crossover!
> 
> And check out the gorgeous cover Jmazzy made for it ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> [(Cover) Pineapples & Promises ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785649) by [ jmazzy ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmazzy/pseuds/jmazzy)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Cover) Pineapples and Promises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21190094) by [CoverMeMellow (MellowBobcat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/pseuds/CoverMeMellow)


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